Page 64 of Solid as Steele
“Can you have him come see us?” Owen asked.
“Can do.” She spun, and her rubber soled shoes squeaked on the floor.
Mackenzie shoved her menu back into the holder. “I’ve never heard of a super-recognizer.”
Owen unwrapped his silverware from the paper napkin. “I worked with a guy once who fits that criteria. The waitress is right. It was freaky. He could look at a crowd, and then pick out individual pictures of every single one of the people. Even a week or more later.”
“I wonder how they do that.”
“I checked into it after that investigation and found not a lot of study has been done. But they apparently pick up a lot of pieces quickly and put them together like a puzzle.”
“Fascinating.” She leaned back. “But I would hate to have it. Think of all the people this guy comes into contact with in his restaurant, and he remembers all of those faces. Must be overwhelming at times.”
Owen nodded and sat back as the waitress dropped off their drinks. “Ernie will be out with your food.”
“Thank you.” Mackenzie’s gaze trailed the waitress as she departed.
Owen waited until she was out of earshot. “I’d like to run out to my truck and get a map to plan our visit to Leach tomorrow.”
“We could look at a map on our phone.”
“Humor me.” He stood. “I’m old school on this.”
He hurried outside and hunched under his jacket to keep the bitter wind at bay. He’d parked his pickup at the end of the block and got out his map of the area and a pen. A white truck was idling across the street, catching Owen’s attention. Too bad Owen couldn’t see through the tinted windows and get a glimpse of the driver.
The vehicle was parallel parked, and what Owen could see of the license plate was plastered with dirt. Looked like a Ford to him, but could be a Ram too. The lighting just wasn’t good enough to be sure and both had rounded wheel wells.
Was the driver watching them? Was it Leach? Had he come back from scouting?
Nah. The driver was likely just early for a take-out order, and Owen was likely letting his cop code speak to him again. He’d knock on the window and would embarrass himself and his department, maybe make a guy mad who would call Sage and report Owen. Wasn’t worth it for nothing concrete.
He went back to the restaurant, glancing back every few feet, but the truck remained in place. He entered the dark establishment. A perfect venue for someone to lurk in the shadows.
Mackenzie was watching the door. Studying every step he took. Not in a clinical way, but in the way a woman watches a man she’s attracted to.
Did she know she was doing it? Probably not. But he felt it clear to his toes. And he liked the feeling. A lot. Still, he ignored it. Or at least he did his best.
He dropped onto the firm bench seat and pressed the map out in front of him, careful not to touch her. “Let’s see where we’re headed in the morning.”
He ran his finger along Highway 26 heading toward John Day from Portland until he located the exit Heath Hatch told him to take. The narrow road wound south for miles then forked off. He trailed the right fork then slid his finger east until he located the final road, nothing more than a wide driveway, and their destination.
He drew a dark circle around it. “I don’t like this location at all.”
Mackenzie frowned. “If you mean there’s only one way in and out, then I agree wholeheartedly.”
He nodded, thankful for her quick observation. She really did think like a law enforcement officer and that added to his attraction. A woman who understood his career. His mindset. His sacrifices. That was a rare woman indeed.
“Could be an ambush if Hatch ignored me and told Leach we’re coming,” Owen said. “We’ll be on foot, leaving us totally exposed. Ryan’s UTV will help but won’t give much more protection. But if we come under fire, we could move to safety faster.”
She met his gaze, a suggestion of fear in her eyes. “You really think this guy’s going to open fire on us?”
“If he’s the jerk who knocked me out and stole my Jeep, then yes.” Owen laid his pen on the map. “Besides, after hearing he uses a Sig Cross, I gotta figure the guy is seriously into marksmanship. That rifle isn’t cheap, and it was designed based on input not only from hunters, but military snipers and elite long-range shooters, so it has stellar accuracy.”
“Not something the average hunter might need,” she said. “But heisa guide and might simply own an expensive rifle to do his job well.”
“True. I could be reaching on this because I want a solid suspect. I need you to keep me in line there.”
“I’m glad to keep you in line.” She chuckled.
